


plus 45 for the bar

by tuvokholdmyhandchallenge



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gym AU, Gyms, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26229346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuvokholdmyhandchallenge/pseuds/tuvokholdmyhandchallenge
Summary: Tasha just wanted to work out at the gym. Alone. Without any distractions.
Relationships: Data/Tasha Yar
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18
Collections: Star Trek Bingo Summer 2020





	plus 45 for the bar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgentStannerShipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/gifts).



Tasha put down the barbell with a thud, careful not to completely drop it. Just because it was 2 am and she was alone in the gym didn’t mean she didn’t have to follow the rules: rerack the weights, don’t drop them on purpose, wipe them down after use. She wiped her forehead with her sweat towel and took a sip of water. Two sets down, 3 to go. 

Her eyes strayed over to the motivational poster above the door and she was (once again) absently contemplating the meaning of “MAKE MUSCLES NOT EXCUSES” when the door opened with a beep and a man entered. Tasha recognized the slicked-back hair and pale skin instantly and turned away quickly, pulse jumping. 

Tasha had started at this gym with the intention of improving herself physically, with no social aspect, no men, definitely no coworkers. Which meant Data Soong, a classmate from the fire academy and apparently an avid member of the same gym, had 3 strikes already. The fact that his face made her feel a little wobbly inside and his personality drew her in like a moth to flame were irrelevant, she couldn’t afford the distractions. She especially couldn’t ignore distractions that didn’t even seem to realize how distracting they were. Whatever. She could ignore Data for the rest of her workout, it wasn’t a big deal that he was there. 

Unfortunately, turning put her directly in front of the full-length mirrors spanning the back wall and she couldn’t quite keep her eyes off of him in the reflection. Data glanced over at her and nodded in greeting, which made Tasha duck her head and look away. She immediately internally bristled at her cowardice. Just because she was having issues with her own whatever regarding Mr. Soong didn’t mean she had to defer to him. If her job had taught her anything, it was to stand her ground, never let any random man waltz up and take her space. She squared her shoulders and deliberately looked back at him, nervous hands toying with her chalk ball and betraying her attempts at ‘casual.’ Unfortunately, he missed her personal victory, as he’d already turned away and set his small duffel bag down and was rummaging through it with purpose. Tasha meant to turn away right away, but his back muscles were visible and defined through his thin yellow exercise shirt and Tasha felt an unwelcome swoop of appreciation in her gut. 

She couldn’t deny that he was a fit man, couldn’t even deny that he was an objectively attractive man. But she could deny any personal attraction with all her heart, and she planned on continuing to do so as long as possible. 

Tasha dropped the chalk ball back onto her tray and resumed the deadlift position, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the vulnerable state it put her in. Facing the mirror pointed her ass toward the rest of the gym, which she normally didn’t think about, but now… The thought gave her an unpleasant mixture of embarrassment and... something she wasn't too keen on identifying, but that a braver woman might have identified as 'thrill.' On one hand, Tasha had worked hard for her physique, was proud of her progress, and had nothing to be ashamed of. On the other hand, Data was right there and it felt almost like she was presenting herself… Tasha growled at the thought and sneered at her reflection. 

You present yourself to no man. Fucking stop it.

She gripped the bar and began her set, careful to control her breathing and keep her eyes on her form. Up, down. One. Up, down. Two. Up, down…

Was Data looking at her?

Tasha glared at herself in the mirror. Three. Stop it. 

Up, down. 

Data was looking, she could feel it. 

Up-

Tasha dropped the weights, wincing as they fell to the rubberized floor with a loud bang. If Data hadn’t already been looking, that drew his attention for sure. She straightened and searched him out in the mirror, giving him the coldest, sharpest expression in her repertoire once she found him. Deanna had once quipped that she should be able to put a fire out with that look alone. 

Data was on the pec fly machine, mid-rep. He paused with his arms together in front of him and raised an eyebrow at her in challenge, or maybe question.

Either way, infuriating. 

Tasha held her glare for another couple seconds and watched as Data seemed to dismiss her and turn his eyes back to his machine to finish up his set. Tasha felt her mouth go dry as she spotted the weight stack and realized he was using nearly the entire thing. There had to be over 200 pounds right there, and he’d been holding it steady without a grimace at her cue. The thought made her suck in a breath and hold it. She was thankful for her headphones, because she might have made a small sound. (Definitely not a whimper.) She'd known he was strong, obviously, but... 

Shit. She really wasn’t doing very well on the whole “ignore Data” concept. 

Tasha grabbed her water bottle again, taking a few deep gulps. How could one man ruin her concentration like this? 

She made a valiant attempt at finishing up her deadlifts and managed to get through without any more outbursts. If she snuck a glance or two between sets, that was nobody’s business but her own. Her legs burned in the best way and for a moment she was able to slip into her Zone. But only for a moment.

After deadlifts and the obligatory equipment wipe-down, Tasha consulted her workout book. It was leg day, and up next were split leg squats and lunges, which she could technically do anywhere. But the bench she usually used was right next to the chest machines. 

Tasha had a choice to make. Self-control was the name of the game. No men. No temptations. Nothing that could take away from her future. 

She headed toward her usual bench, head held high. She could handle a little temptation. He had no monopoly on this space. 

Tasha stacked her stuff next to the bench, claiming it as hers, and grabbed the dumbbells she needed. It always took a couple tries for her to get into the split-leg squat position and she found herself balanced just-less-than-precariously, looking directly at the object of her… her what? Desire? Absolutely not. Ire? A bit, yeah, but not exactly. Thoughts? 

Thoughts would do. 

Anyway, she was staring directly at the bench he chose to settle into, just a row away, and he was unfortunately in just the right position to stare back, should he so choose.

He wasn't watching her on purpose, seemed to be avoiding her eyes, and Tasha powered through two entire sets before the impulse to say anything to break the tension won out. She pulled an earbud out and let it rest around her neck. She was already kicking herself for interacting before she even opened her mouth, but it was all just so- so- She felt like she was going a little bit crazy. 

Data was adjusting the bench press bench and Tasha very nearly did a double-take as he started adding weight plates. He started with two 45's, then added two more, and a 15 each side, totaling 255 pounds. 

Tasha swallowed. 

“Are you sure you're gonna be able to lift that?” Escaped her mouth before she could contain it. 

Data looked at her with a furrowed brow, laid back, unracked the bar, and smoothly brought it down to his chest and back up, slight frown still in place. Tasha expected him to rerack it at one, but he pushed through another rep, then another, another, another, and before she realized she was staring, Tasha watched Data rerack the bar after 8 reps. 

She felt faint, distantly jealous, and suddenly very, very aware of her own body. 

He looked a little tired, but no worse for wear. 

Tasha had seen him at the gym before, but she'd never been alone with him, had always had someone to act as a buffer. Here and now there was nothing distracting her from the fact that he'd just benched more than one and a half times her weight, multiple times, without breaking rhythm. It brought the exact kind of images to her head that Tasha was trying to avoid. But honestly, the more she thought about it (and the more she watched him), the more the reasons for her adamant dislike for him seemed to fade from her mind. 

Tasha came back to herself to see Data sitting up, looking at her expectantly. He must have asked something while she was... distracted. 

“Sorry, what?” 

Data blinked at her and she was reminded of what the other guys said about him being “fucking awkward.” 

“I said, if you have a moment, I would like to add weight, would you mind spotting me?” 

Tasha felt blood rise in her cheeks, which didn't make sense because he'd made one of the most innocuous requests possible at a gym. But her unfortunately interested brain was choosing to ignore that, and as Tasha nodded and walked stiffly over to his bench, she was reminded how many different ways a bench could be positioned, and how close his face would be to her hips. She hoped sincerely that Data wasn't looking too closely at her. 

He wasn't, instead he picked up a 25 plate in each hand and passed one to Tasha, who added it to the bar. 305. Just about twice her weight, give or take. 

“How many reps?” She asked, hoping she didn't sound as breathless as she felt. 

Data paused for a moment. “I can do 4, I want to try for 5.” 

Tasha nodded and swallowed. It wasn't hot. His contemplative expression wasn't attractive. His focus and dedication weren't even directed at her. 

(But wouldn't it be absolutely mind-blowing if it was?) 

Tasha shook herself out and stretched her arms out, popping her elbow before positioning her hands just under the bar. Data took his place and the top of his head nearly brushed against her groin. Tasha resisted the urge to pull back and shy away: she had to focus on safety right now.

Data unracked the weight and lowered it, and this time his expression while pushing it back up went tight. He exhaled slowly through the lift and paused at the top for a split-second before doing it again. Tasha kept her hands off the bar but close, just in case. On the second rep Data let out a little sound on his exhale, a quiet grunt. 

Tasha should not have liked it as much as she did. She pushed the thought aside. 

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Data's face on rep 3. He grunted again. Tasha maintained her position. 

Rep 4 was slower, more deliberate. Data groaned this time, face turning pink, and Tasha couldn't look away. 

Rep 5, the last rep, was a struggle for both of them; Data for obvious reasons, Tasha because her mind had run away entirely while staring at the man below her, conjuring other reasons he might look quite so exerted, other contexts for his sounds. 

He paused halfway up and she gently raised her hands to give him the little extra help he needed. After half a moment's delay, he pushed through with a gasp and reracked the weight, then dropped his arms and smiled up at her. He was sweaty, reddened, properly exerted. 

“Thank you, Ms. Yar, you have been very helpful.” His tone was polite, the name was respectful, and Tasha was going to die if she had to spend one more moment in this man's presence. 

She turned on her heel and rushed to the locker room, not even stopping to grab her phone or towel on the way. Her workout was decidedly over.


End file.
